


Nectar of the Gods

by Minutia_R



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Blood, F/M, Period Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 13:54:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8716456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minutia_R/pseuds/Minutia_R
Summary: Sigrun is having cramps and the only thing that helps is sex.  Luckily, Reynir likes to help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. After some consideration, I decided that the sort of feminine hygiene products that Sigrun would be using in Y90 are washable tampons. So ... yeah.
> 
> 2\. I am 100% sure that "Auntie Flo" is not a thing in Norwegian. JUST ROLL WITH IT OK.

The carriage they were riding in hit a bump on the road, and a flicker of annoyance crossed Sigrun’s face.

Or, at least, on someone else’s face it would have been a flicker of annoyance. But Reynir had seen that exact expression when Mikkel was putting stitches into her arm with no anesthetic. “Are you--are you okay?” he said.

“Sure,” said Sigrun. “It’s just Auntie Flo.”

Reynir had met a few of Sigrun’s relatives when he’d done his season of work-study in Dalsnes. Some of them were really scary, but if one of them was causing her physical agony at that distance, she probably wouldn’t be so nonchalant about it. He’d been keeping up with his Norwegian, even in back in Iceland--most of his friends at school were from Norway just because not a lot of the other Icelandic students were out of their teens. But clearly he was missing something.

Sigrun chuckled at his puzzled expression. It wasn’t anything close to her full belly-laugh. “I just started my period this morning.” She made a vague gesture towards her abdominal region. “Cramps.”

“Oh! I could get you some painkillers? But I don’t think I have--I’m sorry--” Reynir was the worst--friend? Boyfriend? Former subordinate? Fuckbuddy? Whatever he was to Sigrun, he was officially the worst at it. She’d come all the way for his graduation--actually, he was pretty sure you didn’t do that for fuckbuddies, so whatever he was it was probably somewhere closer to the friend region--and gone through the entire two weeks of quarantine and everything, which he knew she hated, and it was supposed to be perfect, and he didn’t even--

Sigrun ruffled his hair. In the time they’d been apart, Reynir had forgotten just how hard Sigrun ruffled hair--when she ruffled your hair, it knew it had been ruffled. Despite himself, Reynir felt himself melting into the carriage’s seat a little. He didn’t deserve a girlfriend--former commanding officer--whatever--like Sigrun, but he had one, and that was pretty great.

“Don’t sweat it, kid,” she said. “I took some already--those quarantine facilities have everything. All the drugs but the fun ones. They just don’t do much. The only thing that does is--”

“Is it chocolate? My sisters swear by chocolate. Do you even have chocolate in Norway? You should definitely try--”

“Orgasms,” Sigrun finished.

“Oh.” Reynir glanced towards the front of the carriage. He didn’t think the driver could hear--the wind got loud up there--even if Sigrun’s voice was pretty carrying and he’d been told a few times that he should control his own volume better. “I--I could help you out with that?”

“Nah, you don’t want to. Blood. Gross, right? We’ll get to where I’m staying, I’ll do my solo act, and it’ll be fine.”

“Well … okay,” said Reynir. They were almost to the guesthouse, anyway, and Sigrun was here until the beginning of troll-hunting season and they’d have time for lots of stuff and--Sigrun was _here_. He started to put an arm around her waist, and then hesitated. “Is it okay if I--”

“Thor’s balls, puppy! I’m bleeding, I’m not made of drywall. C’mere.” She got an arm around him and hauled him almost into her lap. He snuggled into her chest--her sweater was fuzzy and still held the weird sterile smell of the quarantine facility--and she rested her chin on top of her head. “There,” she said with a small, satisfied sigh. “That’s better.”

In another week, the guesthouse at the Academy of Seidur would be packed as mages and their families poured in from all over Iceland and Norway and every odd corner of the Known World. Now it was only slightly more crowded than usual, and Reynir managed to find Sigrun a room to herself. What he didn’t manage to do was avoid stopping every few steps on the way to the room in order to say hi to some acquaintance or other and introduce them to the stunningly gorgeous, impressively tall, and increasingly irritated person with him.

Reynir wanted Sigrun to meet his friends, of course. She was going to love them, and they were going to love her, and they were going to finally have to admit that he _did so_ have a sweetheart--boss-with-benefits--something--in Norway. Just--later.

In the end, they made it to the room, and Sigrun jammed a chair under the doorknob for lack of a proper lock. “Lively place,” she said.

“Yeah. Um. Sorry.”

“Reminds me of home. The quiet in that quarantine facility was starting to get on my last nerve.”

Which was maybe supposed to make Reynir feel better, but it didn’t, because the quarantine facility was also his fault. “It was really great of you to come all this way,” he said. “I appreciate it.”

“It’s not every day my guy finishes mage school.” Sigrun flopped down on the bed, took off her socks and tossed them in a corner, and looked up at Reynir with a crooked smile. “You’ve done real well for yourself, troll bait. Hey, toss me my towel, will you? No sense staining up the sheets in here like it was some kind of bridal suite.”

“Sure.” Reynir started rummaging through Sigrun’s bag, glad of the excuse to hide his blush. He’d never understand how she managed to be so unembarrassed by everything. He just liked it when a little bit of that rubbed off on him, sometimes, when she was around, because if it didn’t he’d never have been brave enough to do half of the things they’d done.

Then he found the towel and looked up to find himself staring at another thing he really liked about Sigrun, because while he’d been looking she’d been taking off her pants. Her legs were beautiful, long, muscled, and pale, with paler scars running down and across them--three parallel lines on her left thigh, a complicated bumpy tangle on her right calf, a dozen smaller ones everywhere between.

He tossed her the towel, and she spread it out underneath her before shimmying out of her underpants, which joined the growing laundry pile on the floor along with a tampon a few seconds later. Reynir had grown up with two older sisters, and he’d come across tampons in the laundry before, but this was a level of intimacy he’d never had. It was--

It actually, with the size and the slightly wet sound it made when it fell, reminded him of Kisa bringing back a dead vermin beast as a present. There was even the little tail--it was a silly comparison. But also weirdly endearing.

And then she started touching herself, and Reynir kind of forgot how to breathe for a few seconds. It was just--she was just--

“So, uh--” he said, his voice coming out sounding strangled. “When you said that I didn’t want to help you out with that, did you mean that you didn’t want me to, or--”

Sigrun turned over onto her side, looking at Reynir with her head pillowed on the arm that wasn’t busy between her thighs, and let out a short, sharp breath. Either she’d just done something that felt really good, or she was laughing at him, and honestly both options were pretty nice. “Yeah, no, I didn’t say that,” she said.

“So can I--”

“You’re sure?” Sigrun’s eyes were half-closed, and her voice was slow and syrupy. “You’re not just saying that ‘cause you think you have to? I’m a big girl, you know, I can take care of myself.”

“No, I want to,” said Reynir. “Please?”

Sigrun’s face split with a grin. “That’s what I like to hear. Go on, then.”

Reynir scooted closer to the bed, and Sigrun took her hand away from her pussy, spread her knees a little bit to give him room. Her red curls were soaked with a darker red, and from up close the smell of her was dizzying--the usual sex smell, but stronger, mixed in with the heavy tang of blood. She was warm, and slicker than he’d ever felt her even when she’d been really turned-on. It was … different. His fingers slid against her easily, and he found her clit, circled it. She let out a little gasp, rocked her hips towards him, and breathed, “Yeah. Nice.”

He felt himself warming to her praise, and to the way she moved--he had to spread his own knees a little wider on the carpeted floor just to find a comfortable position. The brush of cotton underpants against his skin wasn’t something he usually noticed, but he was sure noticing it now. Sigrun noticed it, too, flicking her eyes down his body, making him feel naked and way too dressed at the same time.

“Like that, huh?” She wiggled her fingers at him--the ones she’d been stroking herself with, red to the second knuckle. “Want a taste?”

“Uh,” said Reynir, his brain frozen halfway between _no not really_ and _oh gods yes_. In the end, while his brain was still having trouble forming words, his cock won out over his queasy stomach and he took her fingers in his mouth, lapping at them with his tongue. It wasn’t a good taste, really, but it was definitely _her_. Sharp and sour and faintly sweet underneath.

“That’s right, get ‘em clean,” she whispered against his ear. “There’s more where that came from, you know.”

“Uh huh,” said Reynir around her fingers. “Cah I--”

“Ha! Thought you’d never ask.” She threw herself onto her back on the bed hard enough to shake it, her legs spread wide. “Come and get it, farm boy.”

It was a bit like being drunk, climbing up on the bed, settling himself between Sigrun’s legs, burying his face in her--like falling, where the was no stopping once you’d gotten started. His tongue ran into a slimy chunk of something, licking at her entrance, and he swallowed it down and kept going, even though some part of him knew that even _thinking_ about it yesterday would have made him gag. He wanted her, was all, and it was more of her than he’d ever had before. She wrapped his braid around her fist, and pulled--his scalp prickled and stung, and her thighs pressed close against his face. Then her hips came up from the bed and he couldn’t breath for a few seconds, only lick. He managed to draw in a ragged gasp before she did it again, and then a couple more times, softer, slower, until she finally lay back sprawled out on the bed.

Reynir sat up, brushed his fingers lightly over Sigrun’s belly. “Feeling better?”

“Sure,” said Sigrun. “You do good work. One more should set me up just fine.”

#

“... More?”

Reynir looked so damn cute saying that, a slightly haunted look in his eyes, the lower half of his face a wash of blood like he’d just bitten the head off a chicken or something. She felt a bit bad for lying to him--well, not really lying, she hadn’t _said_ that her uterus was still being a bitch after one orgasm, but yeah, she couldn’t blame him if that’s what he’d heard. Only he looked so cute that if she hadn’t already decided to go for a second round she’d have changed her mind anyway.

“You heard me, magic fingers,” she said, but when he bent his head to start licking again, she nudged him with her toe. “No, not like that. You gonna let me treat you right too?”

His head snapped up like he was a hunting dog who’d just caught the scent. Where’d he learn to smile like that, shy and eager all at once? It was deadly. “Yeah. That’d be great.”

“So get out of those clothes. Lemme see what I’ve been missing all these months.”

He scrambled off the bed and started getting undressed. Not trying to make a show of it, just stripping as quick as he could, which wasn’t as quick as it would be if he hadn’t been so flustered and turned on. He got his head stuck in his sweater, and Sigrun snickered through a stream of muffled cursing--no, knowing Reynir, it was probably, like, _fudge._ He got there eventually, though. Worth the wait, as far as Sigrun was concerned. He’d managed to fill out a little more since the last time she’d seen him. Still kind of skinny, but there was a bit of definition to his shoulders, anyway. She crooked a finger at him, and he stepped close enough for her to trail her fingers through the soft hair on his chest, over the head of his cock. Yeah, he was happy to see her. Her finger came away with a drop of precum and she watched his eyes darken as she licked it off--turnabout, fair play, something like that, right?

She scooted over to make room on the bed, and pretty soon she had him the way she wanted him--sitting back against the wall, so that he could put her arms around her and she could straddle his lap, a good angle to get him deep inside her, her pussy so tender with stupid hormones that every stroke was just on the delicious edge of pain.

He nibbled softly at her neck as she rode him, whispering sweet things between bites--“You’re incredible--I missed you so much”--and then she felt his fingers dig into her butt and she knew he was close.

“Go on, you’ve earned it,” she said, and took his face in her hands, tasting herself on him as he slammed up into her, _fuck_ , better than painkillers any day.

Sigrun had to finish herself off the second time after all, as Reynir leaned back against the wall, woozy and half dozing. Not that she minded. Better with him here and softening inside her than halfway across the room, anyway.

After she rolled off of him and toweled off the worst of the gunk, she nudged him in the ribs.

“I’m awake!” he said.

Sigrun snorted. “Sure you are, kid. Couple more things you can do from me. Get a clean tampon from my bag, okay? And then--” she sighed happily. “You said something about chocolate?”


End file.
